Visiting
by Hunterspire
Summary: Xarano, a nobody that has hidden away the heart of his lover, has come for a visit...


The gravel crunched under his black boots; grinding rhythmically with his steady stride. This old dusty road wondered like a lonely wolf into a valley trapped between two mountainous ridges. Despite its seemingly aimless directions, this gravel road had a goal to reach: a secluded cemetery. A graveyard dotted with a few aged stones; marking the burial places of those who knew no one or those who wanted to get away from the world when they were buried in the dirt.

There was an old, wiry, iron fence that would have completely surrounded the grounds if half of it weren't blown over and half grown over with wild grass. Yes, this was the place. He surveyed his surroundings and shivered subtly. There was a cold breeze sweeping through the valley; taking the warm spring air with it. Rain was coming. He could see the clouds attempting to cross the mountain ridges in the east. The sun dove in and out of the gathering clouds; struggling to keep its shine on the earth below.

Why on a day like today?

Because he wanted to get there as soon as possible. He wanted to visit. After all, he hadn't made it to the burial – if that's what it could have been called. He wasn't even aware of his surroundings when it all happened. He felt so stupid for not making it. How could he have let it happen in the first place? He could have saved her! He wouldn't be walking down this lonely road toward a patch of grass full of dust! It would've all been okay if he had just—

A grimace passed over his face as he pushed all of those thoughts out of his mind. _She wouldn't like it if you blamed yourself, Xarano. Shut up and just walk._

He needed to at least look at that grave stone. Accept it. If Xarano didn't, he'd surely screw his life until it was a mangled wreck. _Nothing more mangled than what already has been…_ He flexed his metallic left hand; experimentally glancing at it glint in the odd half-sunlight.

By this time, he had reached the iron fence. There was a gate with a rusty hinge blocking his way. Xarano stared at it for a moment before pushing it inward. He winced as it screeched in protest. The screaming gate swung inward and landed at an awkward angle against the leaning fence.

_Nice place._

There were maybe five graves in this place – maybe even unmarked ones. An old tree that looked like it would never grow lush leaves again was crouching opposite of the gate. It's thin gray branches seemed to be desperately reaching toward the sun; but must've gotten little help. Xarano's eyes followed the trunk down to the ground and landed on something at its base. There was the headstone perched oddly between two scraggly roots here.

He held a peculiar expression now; one that seemed pained to stay blank. He was so used to blank. He needed to push it away…all of it was over.

He found that he had walked unawares across the small yard. His feet stopped directly in front of this headstone. It was leaning on the roots, causing it to face upward – as if it were looking up at him expectantly.

"Um…hello." Xarano said uncertainly; putting a hand to the back of his head. He stood there for a moment; staring at the hunk of rock before him. "Aw, who am I kidding? I'm talking to a freakin' rock." He exclaimed; throwing his arms outward. He stood in that position and looked to the headstone as if he were expecting it to retort. But that wasn't the rock's 'thing.' But _she_ would've retorted with something. For sure. "Stop thinking about what she would do! She isn't around to _do_ stuff!" Xarano ordered himself; standing straight again.

His emotion mellowed down again. The wind was once again picking up, and the ominous storm clouds had made it over the ridge. The sky darkened as the sun finally gave in to the gray mass intercepting it. Xarano gazed at the sky as he pulled a wrapper out of his coat sleeve. He ripped it open and stuck the uncovered sea salt ice cream in his mouth presumptuously. He sucked on it for a little and returned his gaze to the headstone. A rain drop plopped down on his forehead. It was as cold as the ice cream in Xarano's mouth. Two more landed on his sleeves, and then tens and dozens more started pelting the ground.

"You loved the rain."

The nobody smiled coyly.

"I guess I could love it, too. We may be nobodies, but…"

He pulled the bare popsicle stick out of his mouth; turning it over in his hand and watching the rain fall from it.

"…but I still have your heart. I'll take good care of it, 'kay?"

His gaze focused on the stone behind the popsicle stick blocking his view; as if looking for an answer.

After a moment, Xarano turned his back to the grave and chewed on the bare popsicle stick. He called, "See ya." And threw a casual wave over his shoulder.

The iron hinge hit the fence with a loud _clang._


End file.
